Father Fail
by Ififall
Summary: Thanks to Satomi, Brett finally meets his Father. He's a Mob Boss that's determined to bury the past. Brett's ready for the picture perfect family life, until he gets too curious about a rival's Right hand man...


A/N: Strong Language. Adult scenes.

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Features Characters from E4's The Aliens.

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Mafia/Gangland AU.

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He could remember his Dad telling him.

 _ **"Son, you're not fit for this life**_ "

When they'd first met. He could admit that he wasn't.

* * *

Brett Talbot was a Preppy Senior Devenford Jock. Who was obssesed with Chicks and Lacrosse. Sure he'd dated Guys on the side. But no-one at school knew. But the first Time his Dad had met him, Twenty years later- **he knew**. At first Brett's Dad took him and his Sister to the best restaurants, the most exclusive Concerts and flew them all around the world, meeting celebrities in the process.

Brett didn't think that life could get any better. Until he realised where all the "Treats" and the "Presents" and the "Travelling" was coming from. It was only driving back from a Three Days Grace concert, when Brett found out that his Dad's main rival Fabien, had put a Hit out on his Dad, Now every Wannabe that was looking for a Payday had been after him.

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Brett was forced into action. Surprised himself by realising that he'd have to kill to protect his New, but real Dad. He disposed of men and women reguarly. One Evening, Along with his pack, he'd chopped up this Threat called "Robbie" he'd showered off the blood and decided to have a night out. Sinema was always open. The good news was that Sinema had cute Guys and cheap Drinks.

The Bad News was, the Club belonged to **Fabien.** Brett covered himself in dark clothes and a Baseball cap and went inside. He didn't have to order Drinks for himself. As soon as he reached the counter, Guys were stroking his arms and groping his ass. He got pulled onto the Dance-floor. He didn't bothered asking for names. This Guy was short, broad and obviously horny. It wasn't long before they were making out next to Fabien's office.

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Brett was enjoying it, until his Were hearing got in the way.

 _"Zig I told you. It's a fixed salary for your services_ " He heard someone say.

 _"Bollocks Mason. I'd expect Fabien to screw me over, but you!"_

 _"Zig you got paid. Then you went out and got pissed. You want extra pay for shitting Five Grand down the drain?"_ Mason asked.

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Brett pulled away from the stranger. The door wasn't locked, Thank God. He yanked opened the door and tackled "Zig" to the ground. He hit him with a Hammer-fist before the Guy could attempt to reach for a weapon. As Brett began to club his face, his other hand searched for the Weapon. It was tucked in Zig's crotch.

"You Dirty Boy" Brett said.

He took out the Gun while Zig gave a startled groan. He was about to beat him with it. He raised his arm in the air, and Zig flinched.

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"He's learned his lesson. Just take him out the back-way" This Mason said.

"Sometimes you need to be paralysed in order to learn. I'll be quick"

"Not in this club. **I said** take him out" Mason repeated.

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"You're not my Boss" Brett said.

He kicked Zig in the chest to keep him down. He finally examined who he was talking to. This Guy who was "Not his boss" He a was cute, slim, Black Guy that was rarity in these clubs. He was also a snappy dresser that gave a off a hint of cinnamon and distracted anger.

"Fine I'll deal with Zig myself" Mason said taking out a taser.

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"Wait!...Fine...out he goes" Brett said.

He punched Zig again, held him by the legs and dragged him out the Back-way. If Zig didn't crawl out by himself, he'd be beaten up by drunken passers by that liked to piss out there. Brett came back, shut the Back door and locked it.

"What do I get as a Thank you?" Brett asked with a wink.

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"A free drink, for you and your...friend...out there"

"So you've been keeping tabs on me...how sweet" Brett said.

He slid around the desk, sliding his hand down Mason's Jacket, before playfully slapping his ass.

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" **I'm taken"** Mason confessed moving away from him.

" _I don't care_ " Brett replied.

He grinned when Mason went to the door. At first he instantly thought that he might disappear, but then Mason locked them both inside. Brett grabbed Mason's wrist kissing him against the desk before turning him around face down. Brett always had rubbers. Though...This month he'd barely used them. A waitress called Tiffy had been his only action lately. She'd seemed as Frigid as fuck.

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Tiffy was now the opposite of Mason, who was now sliding his hands into Brett's pants, talking dirty and pressing his fingernails into his back.

"You're a slithery little Guy aren't you?"

"I will be in half an hour" Mason laughed.

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Brett kissed him again before turning him over, sliding himself into Mason bit by bit, until he could handle him. He saw the Guy steady himself on the desk. He was tense. But Brett read his emotions as Calm and expectant.

"Are you...I mean if you're not.,..."

"It's okay...I've fucked without lube before"

"Shit" Brett murmured.

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He meant to...but in his haste to get closer to Mason he'd forgotten. The Taken" one had handled it well. He told Brett what to do and how, his voice deep, the need growing stronger with each command. Brett was oddly satisfied by Mason's high pitched moans. And the jerking of his head rocking over the desk as he fucked him.

He placed his hand against Mason's back as he slowly pulled out. Then he felt the Twinges of pain. He took his rubber off and pulled his clothes up. As he peeked in the office mirror, Mason took the rubber from his hands.

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"Memento" Mason teased. Stretching the rubber.

"I like your humour"

"That's ironic, seeing as I do stand up comedy in my spare time" Mason said.

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"No shit" Brett gasped.

"Yes, shit"

" **Where** are you touring?" Brett asked.

* * *

He heard the beginnings of Mason's answer, but it was blurred by his Mobile ringing. As much as he wanted to hear Mason's stand up routine. He **had** to take this call.

"Gotta go. Work" Brett said with a nod.

"All work and no play. **Sexy** " Mason said.

* * *

Brett walked back into the club and Talked to his Dad. His Dad was asking him about the Robbie hit, but Brett was more focused on listening to Mason buttoning up his clothes and spraying himself with cheap After-shave.

Would Mason Shower tonight? He hoped he didn't...


End file.
